


hey love, we're gonna be fine one day

by suttonbrady



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Health Issues, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, Roommates, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt, Triggers, bellamy has a lot of issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2020-12-27 02:20:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21111080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suttonbrady/pseuds/suttonbrady
Summary: Bellamy kept his OCD a secret from Clarke, out of fear that she might think he's crazy. When they become roommates, he's determined to keep doing so but it's harder than he thought.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfiction might be triggering for some people, so check the tags before reading.  
Honestly, I'm not sure what this is, but my OCD was giving me a hard time so I thought why not make Bellamy suffer with me.

It was stupid, moving in with her. He's not sure why he ever thought it was a good idea.

It's only been a few hours since they finished moving all his stuff into Clarke's apartment and he's sitting next to her on the couch in the living room, trying to think about anything else but the way he closed the door on his way in, and how he should've just went back and closed it again when it wouldn't have seemed as crazy as it would now, ten minutes later.

He looks at Clarke to try and distract himself but his eyes land on her blanket instead and then he's thinking about how it's grey on one side and white on the other and how she really shouldn't have part of the white side showing when most of what's showing of the blanket is grey.

„Who's that character?“ Clarke asks and Bellamy's head jerks up.

„What?“

„Are you even paying attention?“

He kind of forgot that they're watching a TV show.

„Yeah. Sorry, I'm just tired.“

_Why would a person even own a blanket with different colors on each side?_

„Well, not to state the obvious, but maybe you should go to sleep.“

He nods, absently. Maybe he can throw the blanket out without her noticing and get a new one.

„Yeah, I'll-“ he says, mostly to interrupt his own thoughts. „I think I'll go to bed“

Clarke smiles up at him as she says: „Goodnight.“

He smiles back, goes to his room and closes the door behind him, hoping that Clarke doesn't hear how five minutes later, he closes it a second time.

The truth is, Bellamy does want to tell Clarke.

He wishes he could just sit down with her and tell her all about the things happening inside his head so that at least he wouldn't have to try so hard to hide it anymore. It's already exhausting enough without that on top of it.

And he's tried. Many, many times. He remembers how only a few weeks ago, when Clarke's roommate moved out and they decided that he should move in with her instead, he made the decision to tell her all about it. Because it seemed impossible to hide his illness while living in the same apartment as her. It still kind of does.

But when he came over that night, the words all prepared in his head, he couldn't do it.

Because while she may not be in love with him, like he wishes she was, she does love him. And he's convinced that once he tells her, she won't anymore. And he's just not ready for that.

He knows that it's technically ridiculous. He knows Clarke isn't so shallow that she would just suddenly stop being his best friend just because he's sick. But he's not just sick: He's crazy. _He_ wouldn't even want to be friends with him. Nobody wants to be friends with a crazy person.

He used to go to therapy when he was younger but stopped going when it wasn't working, and he remembers how his therapist always hated when he called himself or the things he does crazy. So he tried to stop for a while, but then his OCD got even worse, and then it became the only word he could find that seemed fitting. And he's pretty sure that if Clarke knew about all the fucked up things happening inside his head, it would be the only word that she would find fitting, too.

One time he barely ate for months because his mind kept telling him that the food he's eating might be poisoned. He knew it wasn't, of course. Or it probably wasn't. That's the problem: He could never know for sure. So he just stopped eating altogether and ended up being hospitalized.

Another time, he accidentally cut his left hand with a kitchen knife, and instead of bandaging it, as a normal person would, he took the knife and cut his right hand, too. It's times like that that he most feels his craziness.

But he also feels it when he's standing in front of a door and closes it a fifth time because it just didn't feel right the first four times. Or when he kisses Clarke on the cheek and his lips aren't aligned with it the way he needs them to be, so he kisses her again, hoping she won't notice.

He can never _not_ notice his craziness. And he's not prepared for Clarke to notice it, too.

„Good morning," she says cheerfully as she enters the living room. He smiles at her in response.

„So how was the first night in your new home?“

„Great," he lies. He was up all night, thinking about how it's only a matter of time now until Clarke figures out something's wrong with him. He also went back to the living room once Clarke had gone to sleep to close the front door again, since he couldn't do it while she was in the room. He ended up closing it another two times, then went back and did it again for an even four.

He really wishes his OCD could just fuck off.

„Are you okay?“ she asked with a frown. „You're acting a little weird.“

Great, so it's barely been twenty-four hours and she's already noticed something is going on. Because of course she has. She knows him better than anyone, and he hasn't been very talkative since he's moved in. He's too focused on not doing anything that could give him away.

„Yeah, I'm fine," he says quickly. „I'm just a little stressed, that's all.“

„So you don't regret moving in with me yet?“ she teases as she playfully nudges his side. Truth be told: he kind of does. Of course, he doesn't tell her that.

„No," he lies instead and forces a smile. „This is great.“

Clarke laughs and pats his back before she goes to the kitchen, and all Bellamy can think about his how her hand was closer to his left shoulder than to his right, and how he wishes she could just come back and put it in the middle.

Octavia texts him a few hours later, asking to meet him in a café a few blocks away. She knows how desperate he is to keep this whole thing a secret, so it doesn't surprise him that she wants to check up on him, now that he's moved in with Clarke.

Ever since she's moved to a different town with Lincoln about a year ago, he doesn't see her as often as he'd like to anymore, but he's learned to live with that. When she was younger, he swore to himself that he would always protect her but by now that's become pretty much impossible for him. How is he supposed to take care of her when he can't even take care of himself? He hates himself for it sometimes. He's glad that she has Lincoln.

When he enters the café he sees her sitting a few tables away and his face breaks into a smile. Octavia's face lights up when she sees him and she quickly gets up to pull Bellamy into a tight hug.

„Hey, big brother," she says as she pulls away and motions for him to sit down.

They order something to drink and she starts telling him about how Lincoln is doing and how they're thinking about getting a dog and how she's doing at work, while Bellamy just smiles and listens to her.

„So," she says eventually. „How have you been?“

„Good," is all he says. He's aware Octavia knows he's lying.

„Right," she mumbles. „So, this whole moving in with Clarke thing doesn't stress you out at all?“

He knew that this part of the conversation was coming but that doesn't mean he has to like it.

„It's fine.“

„Bellamy," Octavia sighs and she looks so desperate that he almost feels bad. „I know you're not feeling „fine“ about this whole thing. Hiding your OCD _and_ the fact that you're in love with her? I can see how much it's stressing you out after not even two days. Do you really think you can do this?“

„What?“ he scoffs. „You want me to move out?“

„No," Octavia groans as she covers her face with her hands in frustration. „I want you to _tell_ her.“

Bellamy shakes his head. „You know that's not going to happen.“

„Well, it should. You can't hide this from her forever, it'll only make things worse.“

„I should go," he says and he knows it's childish to run away from this conversation but he's tired of talking about this.

„She's not going to judge you, Bellamy," Octavia snaps. „You think that if people knew about it they would think you're crazy but they wouldn't. I've known you my entire life and you've never been able to hide your illness from me and I still don't think you're crazy.“

„So when I got hospitalized because I couldn't stop thinking about how my food may be poisoned, your first thought wasn't how crazy I was?“ he replies angrily, trying to keep his voice low so he doesn't draw attention to himself.

„You keep using that word. Just fucking stop it. You're not crazy just because you're sick.“

„Yeah, whatever. I'll call you.“ With that, he gets up to leave but Octavia grabs his arm and holds him back.

„You really should tell her, you know?“ she says gently. „She would stick around. You know that, right?“

He stares at her in silence for a few seconds. Then he grabs his bag and leaves.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments are super appreciated!

He calls Octavia to apologize the next day. He feels bad about running off, especially considering how little they see each other these days.

„Seriously, Bell, it's fine," she says on the other end of the line. „I know you don't like talking about that stuff. But, you know...you really should.“ She pauses, knowing he isn't going to like what she has to say. „Especially with Clarke.“

„Octavia-“

„Bellamy, I _know_ how much it annoys you when I bring this up but you know what's even more annoying? Watching you torture yourself by trying to keep this a secret from everyone for _five years,_ when none of them would even mind. Least of all Clarke.“

She waits for him to answer but Bellamy doesn't say anything. Octavia lets out a sigh.

„You've been in love with her since forever, what if she feels the same way? Which she does, by the way.“ He rolls his eyes. „Then what will you do? Be her boyfriend and still not tell her? Well, if that's your plan then it's a pretty shitty one.“

„Well, thankfully I'll never have to worry about that," Bellamy huffs. They've been through this many, many times. „Clarke's not in love with me, O. I'm her best friend and that's it.“

„If you say so.“

He's is silent for a few seconds, unsure if he wants to bring the topic up, but it's probably a kind of important thing to mention.

„Besides, you do remember my fear of kissing, right?“ he asks. „I'm sure Clarke would love a relationship in which she can't even so much as kiss the person she's with.“

„I thought you didn't obsess over germs anymore," Octavia says confused.

„I don't. I only had that when I was younger. But the kissing thing stuck. I don't know why.“

She doesn't reply at first and for a moment he almost thinks she might have hung up.

„OCD makes no fucking sense," she mumbles eventually, to which Bellamy lets out a quiet laugh.

„Tell me about it.“

Honestly, if there was any kind of logic behind his illness, maybe he wouldn't have as much of a hard time telling people. Telling Clarke.

Because if there was at least an explanation or maybe so much as a system behind the whole thing, maybe he could explain it and then maybe they'd understand.

But there isn't.

It started when he was a little kid, about eight or nine years old. He would obsess over illnesses to the point that he'd actually get physical symptoms, just because of how much he thought about it. Back then, he kind of thought it was normal. He just never thought twice about it.

Then, eventually, that kind of went away and turned into him obsessing over germs. That was when his mother and the people around him started noticing, and also when he got diagnosed with OCD. 

He would just think and think and think about all the bacteria in his body and on surfaces and other people and _everywhere._ If he didn't wash his hands at least every hour, he genuinely believed he was going to drop dead. 

It was terrible.

But somehow, it went away, too. He has no idea how or why, but it did. Instead, it turned into different things. Things he had to do, like opening and closing doors, touching things, and all the other fucked up stuff he thinks about throughout the day. Only his fear of kissing stuck. Which, honestly, still pisses him off.

It was hard having to wash his hands all the time or not being able to touch things that are even remotely dirty or having breakdowns about how he thought he was going to die if everything around him wasn't completely and totally clean.

It sucked and it was destroying him while it was happening, but feeling like you're going to die when you kiss someone even though you _want_ to kiss them? That's just evil.

He thinks about kissing Clarke all the time, but he's pretty sure if it came down to it, he couldn't do it. He used to hope that maybe he only panics about kissing when it's with a person he doesn't want to kiss so desperately. Like, that maybe if it was with Clarke, the desire to kiss her would kind of overshadow the fear of it. 

But when he thinks about it now, he's pretty sure it won't. And even after all these years, he still doesn't know how to handle it.

Being in love with your best friend and knowing they would never want to kiss you? That sucks. Being in love with your best friend and knowing that even if they did want to kiss you, you still couldn't kiss them? Yeah, there's not really any words to describe how much _that_ sucks. 

Clarke has been in her room all day and it doesn't seem like she's going to come out anytime soon, so Bellamy decides to take a drive to distract himself from his thoughts. It helps sometimes because the driving forces him to focus on other things than his OCD. It doesn't make it go away, of course, but most of the time when it's really bad, it eases it a little.

Today is one of those times.

His compulsions have been worse than usual all morning. Everywhere he looks, something is wrong. He spends about half an hour moving things around in the apartment until he decides it's becoming too exhausting and goes outside to get his car.

He doesn't plan on taking a very long drive, just maybe an hour or so. But it's calming him down and that's exactly what he needs right now, so when he gets home, it's already starting to get dark outside.

When he opens the door to his and Clarke's apartment, the first thing he notices is the open vodka bottle on the table. He picks it up with a frown, a little confused about why Clarke would drink so much alcohol all by herself. 

He sets the bottle down on the table and calls out her name.

„Clarke!“

When she doesn't answer, he goes to her bedroom door and knocks gently. Still no reply.

Slowly, he opens the door a bit to look inside her room and sees Clarke lying on her bed. But she's not asleep. She's crying.

„Clarke," he says as he rushes to her side and sits down on the edge of the bed next to her. He brushes a bit of hair behind her ear so he can see her face better. „Clarke, hey. What's wrong?“

„I'm fine," she says quietly, but she's still crying a little. She pauses for a moment before she speaks again. „My dad just died a year ago today.“

Bellamy lets out a sharp breath. Of course he did. Of course it's the first anniversary of Jake's death. He knows the date and he _looked_ at the date this morning and he still forgot. Because he was too busy worrying about stupid things like that stupid blanket with two colors, or a book lying too much to the left of the table, instead of in the middle.

At that moment, Bellamy almost feels like crying himself. Because how on Earth could he forget this? The one day of the year in which he _had_ to be there for Clarke instead of just _wanting_ to be, and he forgot.

„Come here," he says, his voice sounding a little shaky, as he pulls her into a deep hug. She buries her face in his neck while Bellamy gently strokes her back in comfort.

„I was going to ask you to get drunk with me," she whispers, so quietly he barely hears. „But you weren't here.“

God, he hates himself.

„I know, I'm sorry. I forgot.“

He feels Clarke nod. 

„It's okay," she says. „You're here now.“

They sit like that for a while, until eventually, Clarke stops crying. But she doesn't pull away yet and neither does he.

„I'm really tired," she mumbles and Bellamy just nods in response.

„Come on, you should get some sleep.“

He pulls away from her so she can lie down again as he takes her blanket and covers her with it. Then he goes to get her a glass of water and makes her drink it before she goes to sleep.

She's already half asleep when he turns to leave, but she still reaches out for his hand to pull him back.

„Can you stay for a bit?“

„Of course," Bellamy says, taking her hand in his and sitting back down on the bed.

After while her breathing becomes calmer and Bellamy is about to get up when she says something else.

„I love you, Bellamy," she mumbles quietly and it makes his heart ache to know that she could never mean it the way he wants her to. 

„I love you, too," he says but Clarke has already fallen asleep. „So, so much.“

When he goes back to his room that night, for the first time in a long time, he cries.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, uhhh...It's been a while. I swear I'm going to try and post regularly from now on, I just had zero inspiration to write in the past few months. Anyway, as always, please leave comments. They motivate me more than anything.

When he wakes up the next day, Bellamy still feels horrible about what happened.

He can't believe he was so focused on his own feelings and thoughts that somehow he completely forgot about Clarke's. She needed him and he wasn't there. And he hates himself for it.

When she walks into the kitchen a few hours later, he debates whether to ask her how she's feeling or to ask her if she's angry at him, now that she's sober. She probably is. And she has the right to be.

„I'm so sorry,“ he blurts out instead. Clarke looks up, clearly surprised by the sudden outburst. She seems confused, which he can't blame her for.

„About what?“

„I forgot about your Dad.“

„Oh,“ she replies. She doesn't look like it's bothering her. In fact, she's smiling at him. As if she's glad he apologized, but wouldn't have minded if he didn't. „It's okay. I'm glad you were there at the end.“

Bellamy isn't sure what to do with that. Somehow, he almost _wants_ her to be angry at him. How can she just act like it's not a big deal? Like it doesn't matter. He wasn't there for her because he was too focused on himself. Because he was being selfish. She should be angry about that.

„No, it's-“ he says as he rubs his hand over his face in frustration. „It's not okay. I should've been there from the beginning.“

„People forget things, Bellamy.“

„Friends don't.“

„Yes, they do,“ she half laughs, as if he's being completely ridiculous. But he doesn't think that he is.

„Not things like that.“

Her smile softens at that and she takes his hands in hers as she looks into his eyes. „Yes,“ she says gently. „They do. You don't have to worry about everything so much.“

He wishes he could.

When he doesn't say anything, she drops his hands and walks over to the kitchen counter to start making coffee.

„You blame yourself too much,“ she says as she sets down two empty cups in front of her. „You don't have to feel bad about everything.“

„But I should feel bad about this. And so should you,“ he says defensively. „You wanted me to be there and I wasn't and-“

„I don't just mean this,“ she interrupts him and turns around to face him. „I mean yeah, this is one of the things that you feel bad about but shouldn't. But there's so _many_ of them, Bellamy. It's like you expect yourself to be some sort of superhuman that never makes any mistakes and never forgets anything, ever. And then when you do make mistakes and you do forget things, you start acting like it makes you the most horrible person alive. As if that isn't perfectly human.“

He's not sure what he was expecting her to say, but it certainly wasn't that.

„Sometimes I feel like you just hate yourself,“ she says quietly, her voice barely more than a whisper.

„Don't we all hate ourselves a little bit?“ he asks jokingly, forcing himself to smile at her, but her face is completely serious when she says:

„Not like you.“

They both just stand there in silence after that, neither of them turning away from each other. She looks like she's still waiting for him to say something, but he doesn't know _what_ to say.

It's not even like he can deny it. He does hate himself. And he doesn't understand why most other people don't. It's fucked up, but he almost _wants_ people to hate him. Especially people like Clarke, who care about him. Because they would be so much better off without him and they don't even know it.

„Anyway,“ Clarke says eventually as she turns back around and pours the coffee into the cups. Bellamy follows her to the kitchen counter and she hands him one of them. „Did I say anything stupid last night? I don't remember much.“

„Only that you love me,“ he answers as he nudges her shoulder jokingly. She smiles at him but he can see how forced it is. Even though he's not sure why.

„Hey, what's wrong?“ he asks in a concerned tone. Clarke just shrugs and takes a sip of her coffee.

„Nothing. I'm going to my room.“

She turns to leave but he grabs her by the arm and takes her cup from her, setting it down on the counter.

„Come on, talk to me.“

For a moment she just stares at him, and he's almost sure that he isn't going to get an answer. He's about to let go of her arm when suddenly Clarke cups his cheek with her free hand, pulls him down to her and kisses him.

It happens so quickly that at first, he doesn't even realise it's happening but he still kisses her back instantly. Because of _course_ he does. Kissing Clarke Griffin is everything he's ever wanted and her lips are soft against his and she smells like perfume and his heart feels like it's going to jump out of his chest and it's so good that he thinks he's going to die.

And then he thinks he's going to _die._

He pulls away from her immediately, his eyes wide in panic as he looks at her. She looks scared, too, but for different reasons. She probably thinks she's ruined something. That he doesn't want to kiss her.

He wants to say something to her but his mouth feels dry and when he tries to speak, no words come out. Then again, he doesn't even know what he would say to her.

So he just tries to calm down and remind himself that people do not die from kissing. But then again, he can't _know_ that they don't. Maybe they do. Maybe he will. There's no way to know for sure.

He can feel his hands starting to get sweaty and it's becoming difficult to breathe. He can't even think straight anymore. The thoughts just keep coming and coming and oh God, he's going to die.

He's pretty sure Clarke says his name but her voice sounds muffled, like he's underwater. He doesn't even realize he's running to the bathroom until his hands grab the handle and he goes inside, locking the door behind him.

He sinks to the floor, trying to get his thoughts to stop spiralling by counting to ten. But he keeps getting distracted by the thought that he kissed someone, kissed Clarke, and now he might die because of it. He's going to die.

Except, of course, he doesn't die.

He's not sure how much time has passed when he finally regains his ability to breathe normally, but he can feel himself slowly coming back to reality. He doesn't feel like he's underwater anymore, and his thoughts start becoming less and less loud until eventually, he feels almost okay again. He just feels exhausted. Not only from this. From everything.

He stays in the bathroom for a while longer, until he's sure that Clarke must have left for her room. Then he gets up, opens the door and quietly makes his way to his room where he lies down on his bed. And he's so exhausted that it doesn't matter he only just woke up a couple of hours ago. He falls asleep immediately.

After he wakes up, it takes him about an hour to build up the courage to go back to the living room.

He doesn't want to face Clarke. He doesn't want to tell her the reason he ran away. He doesn't want to tell her about his OCD. He doesn't want to tell her that he's crazy.

Before this, maybe she wouldn't have thought he's crazy if he told her. But now there is no doubt. If he tells her why he ran, she'll probably take him to the nearest mental hospital and leave him there. And then she'll ask herself how she could be friends with somebody so insane for so many years. And then she will never come back.

When he sees her sitting on the couch, his heart starts beating faster and he stops in his tracks for a few seconds until he closes his eyes, takes a deep breath and keeps walking.

„Hey,“ he says and Clarke turns around to him immediately. And at that moment, when her eyes meet his, he knows that he can't tell her. Because he loves her and he can't lose her and he knows it makes him selfish. And he thinks that maybe he doesn't love her as much as he thought, because if he did, then he would let her leave.  
„Hey,“ she replies.

She doesn't say anything else. And neither does he. So she just turns back to the book she was reading while he sits down at the kitchen table to read his own, and they leave it at that.

The next few days are torture and Bellamy's reasoning that he can't tell Clarke about why he ran away because he would lose her is starting to make less and less sense. Because they don't talk like they used to. They hardly even talk at all. In the mornings they eat breakfast in silence. They don't eat lunch or dinner together anymore. And it's hard to be around her. Because he feels guilty for letting her believe she's ruined something. Letting her believe he didn't want to kiss her.

So he avoids her, which he knows is stupid because wanting her to stay in his life is the whole reason he's not telling her in the first place.

Sometimes she even tries to start a conversation with him, to make things go back to normal. But he keeps his answers short and he never starts a conversation himself. Sometimes when he walks away from her, he cuts his wrists with the razor blade he keeps in his room. Before their kiss, he didn't do it for a while, but now he's doing it again because he deserves it.

Four days after she kissed him, he does start a conversation.

Clarke is about to leave their apartment when Bellamy walks into the living room and sees her. She's wearing a dress, which she never does.

„Where are you going?“ he asks.

„So you're talking to me again?“ She sounds annoyed, which he can't blame her for. When he doesn't say anything, she rolls her eyes and says: „I'm going on a date.“

Bellamy's heart drops.

„With who?“

„Cillian,“ she says. „The guy I told you about who wouldn't stop asking me out.“

„You said you weren't interested in him.“

„Yeah, because I was interested in someone else.“

He's aware that she's talking about him but he still hasn't been able to wrap his head around the fact that Clarke likes him back. Maybe even loves him back.

„Clarke-“

„Whatever,“ she shrugs. „I have to go.“

With that, she steps outside and slams the door shut behind her, leaving Bellamy by himself.

He should be happy for her. It's not like he's ever going to be able to be with her. Or anyone, for that matter. Which means he doesn't get to be sad about her going out with someone else.

But he is. Of course he is.

_I could call her,_ he thinks. _I could call her and I could tell her that I love her and that I did want to kiss her and I could ask her if she loves me or just likes me and then maybe she'll come home._

But he doesn't. Because he _can't_ kiss her. And Cillian can. And because Cillian is normal and he is not and because he really, really wants her to be happy.

So he doesn't call her. And he doesn't tell her that he loves her or that he wanted to kiss her. He doesn't ask her if she loves him, because it doesn't matter.

And so he goes to bed that night, thinking about how he will probably never get out of this. How maybe he will always be so stuck in his head.

Ironically, the thoughts keep him up for hours.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this at 1am so forgive me if it's terrible. I hope it's not.

Bellamy hates himself for hoping that Clarke's date with Cillian doesn't go well.

It's a horrible thing to hope for. And he isn't even completely sure why he does, because even if it doesn't go well, he still won't get to be with Clarke. It's like wanting her to stay alone forever. And he _doesn't_ want that for her. He wants her to be happy. But maybe he just isn't ready to let her go quite yet.

Which is why when he asks her how her date went the next morning, he secretly prays that it went badly. Which probably makes him kind of a bad person.

Clarke looks up from her phone, clearly surprised that he started a conversation with her.

„It was okay“, she answers eventually. „He's really nice.“

Bellamy just nods in response, hoping his face doesn't show that he was hoping for a different answer. He doesn't know what else to say to her, so he turns to leave, not expecting Clarke to say anything else either.

„What the fuck, Bellamy?“, she suddenly snaps and he turns back around just as she stands up from her chair. „Is it really so hard to say more than five words to me?“

He flinches at her harsh tone.

„Listen, I get it, okay? I kissed you. You didn't want to kiss me. Fine. But could you please stop acting as if I murdered somebody?“, she yells. A few seconds later, the anger fades from her face and turns into sadness instead. Bellamy's heart clenches at the sight. „You haven't talked to me in a week. You're making me feel like I ruined everything.“

„I did want to kiss you.“

He doesn't mean to say it. But she looks so heartbroken in front of him and knowing that he's the reason for it crushes him, so he just says it. And then the words are out there, and he can't take them back.

„Bellamy you ran out of the room as if your life depended on it“, Clarke huffs. „You don't have to say things like that just to make me feel better. Just stop avoiding me.“

She's giving him the perfect out: He could pretend he only said it to make her feel better. That he didn't mean it. But as he takes another look at her and the hurt on her face, he knows he can't do it. He's lied to her enough.

So he takes a step forward and carefully reaches for Clarke's hands, taking them in his.

„Clarke, I mean it“, he says quietly. „I really did want to kiss you.“

She just looks at him for a few seconds. Then she shakes her head and pulls her hands away.

„No, you didn't.“

With that, she turns to leave. But before she can, Bellamy grabs her by the arm and pulls her back.

„I did“, he says again. „And I still do.“

Clarke pauses at that. He wishes he could just tell her everything right now and make her confusion and hurt and anger disappear, but he doesn't know where to start. But he's going to find a way to tell her this time.

And then he thinks: _This is it. Now she's going to hate me._ And how can he blame her? He's lied to her for as long as he's known her. And then after their kiss, he put his fear above her feelings. She deserves a better friend than that. Or boyfriend. He isn't even sure anymore. All he knows is that she would be better off without him.

„That doesn't make any sense“, she says quietly, to which Bellamy replies: „I know.“

Then he takes her hand again and leads her to the couch, gently pulling her to sit down next to him. He's not sure he's ever been more nervous in his entire life.

„You know what OCD is, right?“, he asks after taking a deep breath and Clarke nods as she narrows her eyes a little in confusion.

„Right“, he continues, knowing that he can't back out this time. „Well, I have it.“

Clarke frowns at him, looking even more confused than before. Bellamy can't blame her. 

„Okay?“ she says hesitantly, but it sounds like a question. Like she isn't sure where he's going with this. 

Then, after a while: „I have so many questions.“

Bellamy nods. He knows he has to tell her the truth this time.

„Ask away.“

„Why didn't I know about this?“

She doesn't say it like an accusation. She just sounds confused again.

„Because I was scared to tell you“, he admits. 

„Why?“

„Because I didn't want you to think I'm crazy.“

Clarke cocks her head at him and frowns again, like he just said something incredibly stupid.

„I would never think that.“

She sounds almost a little bit betrayed that he thinks she would.

„I know that you wouldn't think so right away“, he replies. „But after a while, you would. And I wouldn't blame you.“

He considers telling her about the hospital. About his compulsions. About the kitchen knife. But he keeps quiet for now. The one thing he has to tell her about will probably be enough to convince her that he's insane.

„It's why I couldn't kiss you“, he confesses but judging by the look on Clarke's face, she doesn't understand what he's trying to say.

„I can't kiss people“, he continues. „I _want_ to kiss people. I want to kiss _you._ And I hoped that maybe it would be different with you because there's no one else I want to kiss that much. But when you did kiss me, I thought I was going to die.“

The confusion slowly disappears from Clarke's face, and now she looks so sad he thinks she might cry. 

He feels like crying, too.

„I didn't run away because I didn't want you to kiss me. I ran away because I was having a panic attack.“

He's prepared for her to agree that he's crazy. For her to say how insane that sounds, how insane he sounds.

But she doesn't say any of that.

Instead, she leans forward to hug him.

Bellamy is so surprised that he pulls back a bit before leaning into her touch and wrapping his arms around her.

„I'm sorry“, she whispers as she buries her face in his neck.

He certainly wasn't expecting _that._

„What?“

„I'm sorry I caused that“, Clarke replies and Bellamy shakes his head and pulls back, bringing her face to face with him again.

„You didn't do anything, Clarke“, he says. „It's not your fault.“

„I should have asked.“

„You didn't _know_“, he argues. „Because I didn't tell you when I should have. I've known I had OCD since I was a kid. I should've told you sooner. It's not your fault I didn't.“

„Isn't it, though?“, she asks. „I mean, you thought I was going to think you're crazy.“

„You _will_“, Bellamy snaps. He doesn't mean to sound angry but he needs her to understand that she's wrong about this. That she _is_ going to think he's crazy. That he _is_.

„Stop saying that“, Clarke says angrily. „You don't know that.“

„Yes, I do.“

„Okay“, she continues after taking a deep breath. „Tell me five things you do or have done because of your OCD that you think make you crazy and I bet that by the end I'll still be sitting here.“

Bellamy stares at her, unsure of whether or not he can actually do that. But then again, he knows he has to tell her eventually, so it might as well be now.

„I can't kiss people because afterwards, I think I'll die.“

„Yeah, you already told me that one. Next.“

He thinks about it for a moment.

„One time I couldn't stop thinking about how my food may be poisoned, so I stopped eating and ended up in the hospital.“

She actually looks a little shocked at that one, but her expression goes back to normal almost immediately.

„Once I accidentally cut my wrist with a kitchen knife but I couldn't have it on just one side, so I took the knife and cut my other wrist, too.“

Clarke doesn't say anything, so he just keeps talking. It's becoming more and more easy to say those things. There's no going back now anyway. And then the words are just flowing out of him.

„Sometimes when I kiss your cheek, I have to kiss it again because my lips weren't aligned with it the way I needed them to be. Sometimes I have to close a door ten times. Sometimes less or more, but it has to be an even number. Sometimes I have to touch something, anything, like a book or a table or whatever, for no good reason. Sometimes I have to reorganize our entire bookshelf because the colours and heights are all over the place. And that fucking _blanket-_“

He stops and buries his face in his hands in frustration.

„I can't stand that goddamn blanket. I can't stand when we're sitting on the couch and the grey side is on top but there's part of the white side showing or the other way around. I just can't-“

He pauses again when he realizes that he's about to cry.

And then he just does.

He closes his eyes as a sob rips through him and then the tears are falling and he still thinks that Clarke might just leave, until suddenly she's hugging him again, more tightly than she ever has before.

He hugs her back immediately this time, holding her as close as he can while sobbing into her shoulder.

„I'm sorry“, he whispers. „I'm sorry. I'm just so exhausted.“

He feels Clarke nod.

„I know“, she says. „I know, it's okay.“

And it isn't until a few minutes later, when they're still hugging and Clarke still hasn't left, that he realizes she might not leave at all.

It's silly, really. Because that's what Octavia said all along. And it's what Clarke said from the beginning. And because it's _Clarke_ and she's his best friend and of _course_ she wouldn't leave because of this.

But until now he wasn't able to imagine anything other than the worst outcome. And now that he is able to, it feels like at least one of the many weights he's carrying has been taken off his shoulders.

She might still leave. But at least it won't be soon.

He stops crying after a while, but Clarke keeps hugging him. He's not sure how long they sit there for but it's probably the longest they have ever hugged.

After some more time has passed, he slowly pulls away.

He moves to wipe away the rest of his tears but Clarke is faster than him, gently wiping the tears from his face with her hand.

„See?“, she says as she smiles at him. „I'm not going anywhere.“

Then he smiles, too, because for the first time, he actually lets himself believe that might be true.

„I do have one more question, though“, Clarke continues. „You said you wanted to kiss me. And that you've never wanted to kiss anyone that much.“

Bellamy nods in response, unsure where she's going with this.

„Does that mean that-“ She hesitates, clearly not sure if she should finish her sentence. But she does. „Does that mean that you 're in love with me?“

„Yes“, he says without missing a beat. „And I know that's not fair.“

„Why wouldn't it be fair?“, Clarke asks. 

„Because even if you feel the same, we still can't be together. And if you feel the same, it's just going to be harder for you now. That's why it's not fair that I love you.“

„For the record“, she says. „I do feel the same.“

It shouldn't come as a surprise to him. If she wasn't in love with him, she would have told him that after he ran away from their kiss. She would have told him that it doesn't have to change anything, that they can just forget about it.

But still, hearing her say it gives him a feeling that he can't even begin to describe.

„But I don't understand why we can't be together.“

Now it's Bellamy's turn to be confused.

„You _know_ why.“

„I really don't.“

„I can't kiss you.“

„I know _that._“

Bellamy just stares at her. He has no idea what she's trying to say.

„Yeah, so you know why I can't be with you.“

„Is it just the lips?“, she asks. „Like, if I kissed your cheek or your neck or you kissed mine, would that make you panic?“

„No, it's only when it's on the lips.“

„So“, she continues as she starts climbing into his lap. He's so surprised that he doesn't even understand what's happening. And then she's straddling him and he just stares at her while she smiles down at him. „If I were to do this...“, she says and presses a kiss to his cheek. She pulls back after a few seconds to see his reaction. When she sees that it's okay, she keeps going. „Or this.“

This time she kisses him right next to the corner of his mouth and it takes everything in him to not just turn his head and press his lips against hers. He wants to. More than anything. But he knows he would regret it the second the panic attack starts.

„Or this“, Clarke whispers, moving her lips down to his neck and Bellamy closes his eyes and throws his head back a little because this is _Clarke_ and she is kissing him and at that moment, it doesn't even matter that it isn't on the lips.

When she pulls away he misses her touch immediately.

„Then that would be okay?“, she smirks. All Bellamy can do is nod as he stares at her, his eyes wide, and Clarke let's out a laugh.

And then, because he can't help himself, he puts his hand on her cheek and gently pulls her down to him so he can kiss her cheek, too. And it shouldn't feel different, because he does it all the time, but it does. It feels more intimate than all the other times he's done it.

He starts kissing her neck, too, and he feels Clarke grab his hair to keep him close and when she lets out a soft moan, he swears he might die. For real this time.

Eventually, he pulls back to look at her again and they're both breathing heavily, which is kind of weird because they weren't even _really_ making out, but at that moment he almost feels like it might be enough. 

„I want to be with you.“

„I don't think I can have sex anymore either.“

It's a weird thing to reply. He knows that. But he feels like Clarke doesn't understand that a relationship with him wouldn't even be a real relationship.

„Okay“, she says.

„I might be able to. But I haven't tried in a really long time because I want to kiss the people I sleep with and I can't do that. So I don't know if I'm able to.“

„Okay.“

„This isn't something that's going to go away with time. I will probably never be able to really kiss you.“

„Okay.“

„_Clarke_“, he says, slowly getting more and more frustrated. 

„Bellamy, I want this“, she says in reply. „I know you think I'm not thinking clearly and that I will change my mind but I won't. I've been in love with you for so long and sure, this isn't exactly what I pictured, but I'm okay with it. I want it.“

„I can't even kiss you on the lips or sleep with you, Clarke. I can't do any relationship things“, he whispers.

„Wrong“, she just says. „You can do pretty much all relationship things except kissing me on the lips or sleeping with me.“

He's not sure how to reply to that.

„Do you really not want to be with me?“, she asks eventually.

„Clarke, of course I want to be with you“, he replies with no hesitation. „I just don't want _you_ to be with _me_.“

„That doesn't make any sense.“

„Yes, it does. I have to put up with all of this stuff anyway, because it's in _my_ head. But you don't. And you shouldn't have to.“

„I want to.“

„_Clarke._“

„I do“, she says, her voice firm. „I want to kiss you, but it's okay that I can't because I get to be this close to you and I get to hear you tell me you love me and I get to kiss you everywhere that isn't your lips. It's okay that you can't sleep with me, because we can still _sleep_ together and we can still cuddle. And I can still call you my boyfriend and you can still call me your girlfriend and we can still be together. Don't you want that, too?“

He could say no. She would back off if he did. It would be the selfless thing to do because even if she doesn't realize it yet, this isn't what Clarke wants and if he were selfless, he would keep her away. 

But maybe he just isn't a selfless person.

„I want that more than anything.“

Clarke smiles at him and reaches out to gently stroke his cheek.

„You just have to ask“, she says. „That's all you have to do. That's all you ever had to do.“

„Be my girlfriend“, he blurts out before he can overthink it. „Please.“

„Okay.“

And when he holds her in his arms as they both fall asleep that night, feeling happier than he ever has before in his life, he thinks that maybe it might be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to make it clear that even though it (probably) could, the fic doesn't end with this chapter. I'm not sure how many it will end up having, but my guess is around ten.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate this chapter but at least I didn't take months or weeks to update this time. So I guess that's something.

Bellamy wakes up to Clarke gently running her hand through his curls.

When he opens his eyes, he sees her smiling at him and it gives him this warm feeling in his chest that no one can make him feel but her.

He can't believe that only yesterday, he was trying to convince her not to be in a relationship with him. He still thinks she shouldn't be, but if he can have this even just for a little while, then it's worth it.

„Good morning“, Clarke says and gives him a quick kiss on the cheek, making him smile even more.

„I love you“, he says. Just because he finally can.

„I love you, too.“

And the way she says it, he almost believes it might not be temporary after all.

It takes them both almost an hour to finally get out of bed, neither of them wanting to leave. Not after they both longed for this for so many years.

But they do get up eventually. Clarke goes to make breakfast in the kitchen while Bellamy goes to take a shower, and he hopes she doesn't notice how for just a second, he almost kisses her on the lips.

Not kissing her feels harder now that she's his girlfriend. Because now that he knows she wants him to kiss her, it just always feels like the right thing to do. And he figures it's only a matter of time until he slips up and has a panic attack because of it.

But he tries not to think about that right now. Instead, he decides to think about how Clarke is in love with him, and how she's his girlfriend and how she wants to be with him.

Except a few seconds later, he's thinking about how she only loves him because she wasn't there for all the crazy things he did. About how she won't be his girlfriend forever, because it might be okay for her now, but this won't be what she wants for her whole life. And about how it's only a matter of time until she doesn't want to be with him anymore.

„Shut up“, he says to himself, and he truly wishes he could. He wishes he could shut his thoughts up and just be happy about all of the good things happening to him right now.

But he can never shut his thoughts up. He's learned to live with that.

The first thing he notices when he goes to the living room is that the blanket is gone.

It's been replaced with a different blanket that Clarke must have found in one of their bedrooms or something. It's orange and it looks quite ugly on their dark grey couch, but he doesn't care, because at least it's orange everywhere.

„You changed the blanket“, he says matter of factly as he turns around to look at Clarke. She hands him one of the coffees she made and nods while smiling up at him.

„You liked that blanket“, he continues. Because she did. She's told him before how much she likes the colours and the pattern and how it's softer than all of the other blankets in the apartment.

„I like other things more“, she smirks and leans up to softly kiss his forehead.

He could not love this girl more if he tried.

They're interrupted by a loud knock on the door and knowing only one person who knocks on doors that aggressively, Bellamy immediately knows who's at the other side of it.

„Fuck“, he whispers to Clarke. „I was supposed to meet with O for breakfast today.“

He curses himself in his mind for being so forgetful.

„Does she know you and I are together now?“, Clarke asks and Bellamy shakes his head.

„Can I tell her?“

„Of course“, Clarke laughs. „I'm not planning on this being a secret. By tomorrow you can expect half the world to know that you're finally my boyfriend.“

The word boyfriend still makes his heart skip a beat. He's not sure he's wrapped his head around the fact that he's actually dating Clarke just yet.

Octavia knocks again, even more aggressively this time, and he smiles a little when he hears an annoyed sigh from the other side of the door.

„Took you long enough“, Octavia says when he finally opens it, but immediately pulls him down for a tight hug.

„Hey Octavia“, he hears Clarke say behind him and Octavia smiles at her over his shoulder as she greets her back.

He steps aside to let Octavia in and mentally prepares himself for breaking the news to her. He knows she'll be happy, of course. He's just worried she might be _too_ happy. Too optimistic that it's going to work out.

„So, uhh...“, Bellamy starts, trying to figure out how best to tell her. But he figures it's best to just say it. To rip it off like a band-aid. „Clarke and I are dating now.“

The apartment is silent for a moment while Octavia processes the news. She looks at Clarke with her mouth open, then back at Bellamy, like she's trying to figure out if he might be joking.

„Wait, for real?“

„For real“, Clarke replies before Bellamy can say anything.

„I knew it!“, Octavia yells as she punches Bellamy's shoulder. „I told you so!“

Bellamy rolls his eyes at her, but he's smiling.

„Yeah, you did.“

Octavia starts asking questions then. Her first one is if that means Clarke knows about „you-know-what“ now, to which Bellamy lets out a laugh and nods.

„Yeah, she knows about my OCD now.“

Octavia mumbles something under her breath that sounds a lot like „fucking finally.“

Then she asks how they got together, and Bellamy thinks about a quick way to summarize it before he realizes there isn't one.

„It's complicated“, is what he settles on. „I'll tell you later, okay?“

Octavia doesn't look so happy about the idea of waiting for an answer, but he knows she understands.

He finally tells her everything after they all had breakfast together and Clarke leaves for the bathroom to take a shower. He leaves out details here and there but tells her everything important.

„So“, Octavia says carefully once he's finished talking. „That means you still can't kiss her?“

He knows how ridiculous it is. The fact that he's not capable of kissing his girlfriend.

„No.“

„But she's fine with it?“

„For now.“

Octavia frowns at him.

„So you think she won't always be fine with it?“

Bellamy can feel himself getting frustrated. Not at Octavia, just the conversation. He doesn't want to talk about this. He doesn't want to keep getting reminders that the relationship will probably not last.

„Well, she's my girlfriend and yet she can't even kiss me on the lips. Will she always be fine with that?“, he huffs and shakes his head. „Take a guess.“

Octavia is quiet for a moment before she replies.

„Maybe you should stop never believing anything Clarke says about you.“

„What?“, Bellamy asks as he furrows his brow. „I don't do that.“

„Yeah, you do. Clarke tells you that she loves you and you say 'she doesn't _really_ love me, she just thinks she does.' Clarke tells you she doesn't mind that she can't kiss you and that she will always want you anyway, and you say she's just not thinking clearly. Clarke says she doesn't think you're crazy and never will, and you say she only says that because she's never seen you do anything crazy.“

Bellamy isn't sure how to reply to that. When he doesn't say anything, Octavia sighs.

„Look, I know it's more difficult than it sounds and that you can't just suddenly stop doubting and overthinking everything. I'm just saying...“ She pauses for a second. „I'm just saying maybe sometimes you should at least try to believe the things Clarke says. She's not stupid, Bell. She's the second most stubborn and determined person you know, me being the first, which means she's not the kind of person to not be sure what she wants.“

He considers Octavia's words for a moment. He knows she might be right. She probably is. But he can't help doubting the things Clarke says to him, no matter how hard he tries not to. He wants to believe her more than anything else in the world, but he can't.

„She won't want this forever, O. No one would.“

Octavia just looks at him, raising her left eyebrow unimpressed.

„You're an idiot“, she says and turns to take a sip of her coffee.

„Thanks.“

Octavia leaves shortly after, leaving Bellamy and Clarke sitting on the couch and watching a movie.

Clarke rests her head on his shoulder as she lazily plays with his right hand, and it feels like everything is fine in the world until suddenly she stops.

„Bell“, she whispers and sits up, not letting go of his hand. Bellamy turns his head to look at her, frowning in confusion. When he sees that she's not looking at his face, but his wrist, he looks down to where their hands are joined and immediately realizes why she stopped.

The sleeve from the sweater he's wearing has pulled up a little bit, enough to leave his scars on full display.

He quickly pulls his hand away and pulls the sleeve back down, cursing himself once again because he should've remembered to wear a sweater with longer sleeves.

„Bellamy“, Clarke repeats and he can feel her looking at him now, though now he's refusing to look at her. He doesn't want to explain it to her. He wants to run out of the apartment and pretend this never happened. But he knows he can't do that.

„Did you do that?“, Clarke asks. He doesn't answer her, but he's aware Clarke knows what that means.

He hears her take a deep breath before she asks: „Was that one of your compulsions?“

He could say yes. It would be easier. But he made a promise to himself to never lie to Clarke about these things again.

So he shakes his head.

She's quiet for a while and he almost thinks she might not say anything else. But she does.

„Then why did you do that?“, she asks quietly, her voice gentle.

He considers just staying quiet again. That would be easiest. But he knows Clarke deserves an answer, even if it's not a good one.

„Because I deserved it.“

„What?“

„I deserved it“, he repeats, because it's the truth.

„Bellamy“, Clarke says as she gently grabs his chin and forces him to look at her. „Why would you think you deserve that?“

This time, he thinks he should lie. Because there's a good chance Clarke is going to blame herself if she finds out he technically did it because of her. But when he can't come up with a lie, and when he remembers the promise he made to himself, he decides against it.

He turns away from her again and Clarke lets her hand fall into her lap.

„I felt guilty“, he says eventually. He's still unsure if telling her the truth is the right thing to do in this case, but he's made up his mind. „About letting you believe I didn't love you back. And for avoiding you after you kissed me.“

For the second time that day, it's completely silent in the apartment. But this time the silence feels much heavier than it did before.

He doesn't know how much time has passed when Clarke finally speaks.

„Bellamy“, she says and she sounds like she's about to cry, which just breaks his heart even more. He hates that he's putting her in pain like this and he wants desperately to make it stop. „You know I would never want you to do something like that.“

„I know“, he whispers. Because he does. But just because Clarke would never wish anything bad upon him, doesn't mean he does not deserve it.

He feels Clarke take his hand in hers again.

„Promise me you won't do it again. Especially not for me“, she pleads. „Please.“

He turns to look at her again and she looks so desperate he suddenly feels close to crying himself.

„I promise.“

It's an empty promise. And he knows Clarke knows that. But he's going to at least try to keep it.

But he's also pretty sure he won't succeed. Because at that moment, when he looks at Clarke and sees the pain in her eyes that he's the cause for, his first thought is that he should go to his room to get the razor blade and give himself more scars because that's what he deserves for making her so sad.

The thought doesn't last very long, because immediately after, he realizes how ridiculous that would be, considering that him harming himself is the whole reason she's sad in the first place. But that doesn't mean the urge is not still there.

He looks down at Clarke's hand in his and realizes how he needs her to hold it more tightly because the pressure she's applying right now doesn't feel like the right amount. And then suddenly it feels like it all comes crashing down on him at once.

He pulls his hand away and tells Clarke he needs to be alone. Then he goes to his room and shuts the door behind him, leaning against it with his back and closing his eyes.

He doesn't try to fight the thoughts this time.

He thinks about how he can't do something as simple as holding hands with someone without thinking about the amount of pressure they're applying. He thinks about how he's only been with Clarke for a day and he's already almost made her cry. He thinks about how he should've been able to kiss her on the lips after he made her so sad. He thinks about how he feels the need to touch the wall next to him but tries to ignore it because he's tired of giving in to those things. He thinks about how he should be happy to be with the girl he's loved for so many years, and about how he can't be because his brain is too fucked up. And he thinks about how exhausted he is. About what he would give to have a quiet moment, in which he doesn't need to touch anything, or doubt anything or think about any of the things his illness makes him think about.

But he knows he'll never get that quiet moment, and he knows he has to make his peace with that.

So he opens his eyes. Then he steps away from the door and touches the wall next to him because he has to. Then punches the wall because he hates that this is his life.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so that thing about updating more regularly? Didn't work!

At first, Clarke figures Bellamy just needs some space. Some time alone, away from her, to collect his thoughts and find a way to handle the stress he's feeling.

So she gives him that.

She knocks on his door once, to ask him if he needs anything or if he wants her to come in. When she gets no answer, she takes that as a no and leaves him be.

She doesn't see him leave his room at all for the rest of the day and she tries not to worry, but she can't help herself. She knows she won't be able to sleep unless she checks on him, so a few hours later, she knocks on his door one more time.

„Bellamy?“ she asks and is once again met with silence. When she opens the door, she sees him lying on his bed, facing the wall. But he isn't asleep. His eyes are open, staring blankly at the wall in front of him. He shows no reaction to her entering the room either.

„Bellamy,“ Clarke repeats as she steps closer to his bed and kneels in front of him so she's closer to his face. She lifts her hand to brush a curl out of his face and he closes his eyes at her touch, but it looks more pained than anything else. Like he can't bear to have her there.

„Do you want to be alone?“ she asks quietly. All she wants is for him to say something, anything, to let her know that he's okay. Or at least that he's going to be.

But all he does is give her a tiny nod and it looks like even just that little response costs him all of his strength.

It breaks her heart to see him like this and she wishes more than ever that he hadn't waited so long to tell her about everything. Maybe he could've told her how to help him when he gets like this. But now she just feels helpless.

She's about to stand up when she notices his hand. She heard a sound earlier, but she didn't think much of it. She thought maybe he dropped something, or maybe it came from outside. It's only when she sees the slight swelling and the bruises that she realizes he must have punched something.

There's a bit of blood too, so she sighs and gets up to get the bandages they keep in the bathroom, as well as some warm water.

She cleans his hand and then wraps it up in one of the bandages, while Bellamy still shows no reaction. Somehow she expected him to pull his hand away and refuse to let him help her, but he does nothing of the sort. She wonders if maybe it's because he doesn't have the strength.

When she's done, she gently cups his face with one hand and gives him a short kiss on the cheek.

„Tell me if you need anything, okay?“

He doesn't answer.

Clarke hates spending the night without Bellamy.

Now that she knows what it feels like to fall asleep and wake up next to him, she doesn't want to do it any other way. On top of that, she can't stop worrying about him and how he's feeling. She wants desperately to help him somehow, but she has no idea how to do that.

The first thing she does after she gets up the next morning is check on him but he seems to be asleep, so she goes to the kitchen to make some coffee, waiting for him to get up too.

Hours pass until finally, she hears his bedroom door open and then the sound of him entering the bathroom. When she hears him come out of it, she expects him to come into the kitchen, the same way he does every morning, but he doesn't. Instead, his bedroom door closes once again, leaving Clarke feeling even more helpless than before.

So once again she knocks on his door, saying his name, and once again she gets no answer. When she steps into the room, he's still lying on his bed, facing the other side this time. This time his eyes are closed, but he doesn't seem to be asleep.

„Bellamy,“ she repeats as she sits down next to him on the edge of his bed and gently takes his hand. Except this time, he does pull away.

„Go away,“ he grumbles, his voice both low and weak.

„Bell-“

„Go.“

For a few seconds, Clarke just sits there, unsure of what to do. She doesn't know how to handle this type of thing. She doesn't know if maybe she should drag him out of bed and force him to eat or at least drink something. Would that only make it worse? Maybe this just happens sometimes. Maybe sometimes he just needs to have a few days in which he's allowed to let his depression take over, and then it will go away eventually.

But he's never told her anything about this. Even when explaining his OCD, he never mentioned anything about the depression that clearly seems to come with it.

So she decides to call the only person she can think of that might know what to do.

Octavia answers almost immediately.

„Clarke?“ she asks, sounding a bit alarmed. Clarke hardly ever calls her, so she can probably guess that something must be wrong. „Is everything okay?“

„Yes, everything is fine,“ Clarke hastens to explain before she realizes that that's not exactly true.

„Well, actually I'm not sure,“ she admits hesitantly, not wanting Octavia to be concerned. „I'm a little worried about Bellamy.“

„Why? What's wrong?“

„Yesterday after you left, we-“ she pauses, suddenly unsure if Octavia knows about his scars. He said he only started hurting himself again recently, and he hasn't seen Octavia much since then. „Well, we talked a bit about...everything“, she eventually says. „And afterwards he seemed really out of it and went to his room and didn't leave it all day. When I went to check on him he was just lying on his bed and he wouldn't say anything to me, or even move.“

„I thought maybe he just needed some space, but now it's already noon and the only time he left his bed was to go to the bathroom. And it's not like he's sleeping, or even reading or on his phone or anything. He's just lying in bed. And when I checked on him he told me to go away and I-“

Clarke cuts herself off with a sigh.

„I just thought maybe you'd know what I should do. If I should just leave him be or if I should force him to get up, or...I don't know. Maybe I'm overreacting.“

It's silent on the other end of the line for a few seconds, until finally, Octavia says: „You're not overreacting.“

A part of Clarke was hoping that she was. Because that meant she wouldn't have to worry as much as she is right now.

„I'm on vacation with Lincoln right now. That's why Bellamy and I met up yesterday, so we'd see each other once more before I leave,“ Octavia says. „But I can come back.“

„No, that's okay,“ Clarke says quickly. „We'll be fine. I just need some advice on what to do.“

„Alright, well...“ Octavia starts. „It just...happens sometimes, you know? We haven't lived together for years, so I don't know how often it happens anymore. But it starts with him not getting out of bed and it doesn't really get better unless you force him to do some things. Like drink or eat or shower or whatever.“

„I don't know what's going on inside of him when he gets like this, but... I do know that you can't take the stuff he says or does personally,“ she continues. „He just...starts shutting everybody out. And it's not very easy to get him to stop doing that once it happens. But I guess you have to try.“

„I wish there was better advice I could give you,“ Octavia says when Clarke doesn't reply for a while. „And I really can come back.“

„No, seriously. Enjoy your vacation,“ Clarke smiles. „I'll call you if I have to. I promise.“

She feels bad about making Octavia worry and possibly ruining her vacation in the process. But at least now she somewhat has an idea of what to do. She still feels a little helpless, but not nearly as much as she did before.

So she takes a deep breath, mentally preparing herself for somehow getting Bellamy out of bed. She doubts it will be easy.

He's still lying in the same position he was in when she left and the first thing Clarke does is open the curtains. Bellamy groans when the sunlight hits him and buries his face in his arm.

„Bell, you need to get up,“ Clarke tries but he doesn't react. So she sighs and grabs his blanket, pulling it off him and out of his reach. He lets out an annoyed huff but still makes no move to get up.

„Bellamy, please,“ she pleads, feeling desperate. „You know this isn't good for you. And it'll just get worse if you stay in bed now. You know that.“

When she still gets no reaction, she moves to pull his arm away from his face and force him to sit up, while Bellamy tries to shove her away.

„Go away, Clarke,“ he says angrily, trying to bury his face in his pillow instead, but Clarke grabs him by the arms and drags him up until he's sitting.

„At least take a shower and eat something. It will help,“ she says as she cups his face with one hand and looks at him. „Please.“

At the desperation in her voice, Bellamy almost looks guilty. He stares at her for a few seconds, until eventually he huffs again and rolls his eyes.

„Whatever.“

With that, he pulls his arms out of Clarke's grip and finally gets up. He looks like he can barely keep himself on his feet, like he has to drag himself through the room. Clarke flinches when he slams the door shut behind him, but about a minute later she hears the shower water running, so she counts it as a success.

Once he's out of the shower, Clarke makes him drink a glass of water and eat something, but he barely manages a few bites and he still won't really talk to her.

After that, he lies down on the couch and turns on the TV. Clarke knows it's probably not the best thing, but she figures it's better than him lying in his bed, all alone in the dark and doing nothing.

When he goes back to bed at the end of the day, part of her has hope that he'll go into her room instead of his. His bed is too small to really fit two people, while Clarke's is big enough. So if he went into her room, it would mean he wants her there with him.

He doesn't.

The next few days are exhausting. Clarke feels selfish for feeling that way because she's sure they can't be anywhere near as exhausting for her as they are for Bellamy.

But it's hard.

She has to drag him out of bed each morning, and he gets angry every time. Not the loud kind of angry. He doesn't yell at her and he hasn't even slammed a door since that first time. But his eyes always look angry, and he still won't really speak to her. Most of the time he refuses to so much as look her in the eyes.

Octavia was right: He's shutting her out.

Sometimes she doesn't manage to keep him from going back to bed early, and he still can't seem to eat more than a few bites. But he drinks water when she gives it to him and showers when she tells him to.

It's something, at least.

She wishes he would talk to her, though. Make her not feel like he wants her gone.

She isn't angry at him for it. She knows it's not his fault, and that he doesn't mean to hurt her. He just doesn't know how else to cope except by trying to push the whole world away.

But it gets hard to remember that sometimes.

Like when he won't look at her all day, or when he won't stop telling her to leave her alone.

„I don't fucking need you, Clarke,“ he snaps at her one night when she tries to get him to eat something for dinner, right before he storms back into his room.

But she knows he doesn't mean it, so she remembers Octavia's words and doesn't take it personally.

When she goes to bed that night, she can't seem to fall asleep, no matter how hard she tries.

She can't stop thinking about Bellamy and what it must feel like in his head. And she wonders how she didn't notice anything was wrong for years, and how many times he dealt with these things on his own.

All she wants is for him to stop pushing her away. She doesn't mind having to help him get out of bed in the morning, or making him eat and shower and drink and everything else. But the way he's shutting her out is killing her.

Just a few words that aren't said out of anger would be enough for her right now. Anything to let her know he isn't actually mad at her.

She's still deep in thought when suddenly the door to her room slowly opens. She turns her head to see Bellamy standing in the hallway, looking at her. She can't fully see his face in the dark, but he doesn't look as angry as he did earlier.

After a few seconds of just standing there, he silently closes the door behind him and walks to the other side of Clarke's bed. He lies down next to her, gets under the covers and slowly puts his arms around her from behind.

Clarke melts into his touch, having missed it far too much and sighs in relief.

Bellamy buries his face in her neck and pulls her closer to him. As close as he can.

He still doesn't say anything, but he doesn't have to. Clarke can feel everything through the desparate way he's holding her. She can feel how exhausted he is. She can feel that he's sorry for the way he's acting towards her. And she can feel that he wants to tell her that, but that he's still too exhausted to actually say the words. 

And she can feel that he hopes she can understand all this through the way he's holding her right now.

She does.

When Clarke reaches for Bellamy the next morning, she realizes that the bed is empty. For a moment she thinks that maybe she just imagined him coming over, but then she notices that his side is still warm.

She checks the time on her phone and smiles when she sees that it's 11 am. Him getting up without her making him at a reasonable time is a good sign.

Even more relief washes over her when she steps into the kitchen and sees Bellamy making breakfast. He still doesn't look well. He looks exhausted and sad and tired. But he still looks better than the days before.

He turns to look at her when he hears her come in and it's another way of knowing he must be feeling at least a little bit better. The days before, he just seemed...out of it. He didn't react to anything. He didn't even flinch at loud noises. It was like he tuned out his surroundings somehow.

„Hey,“ he says and presses his lips together in a tight smile.

„Hi,“ Clarke says as she smiles back.

He doesn't say anything else. Instead, he just reaches for one of the cups on the counter and hands it to Clarke, taking the other one for himself.

They drink their coffee in silence, and Clarke is fine with that. The day is already better than the past few ones, so she doesn't want to push him.

„Can we talk?“ he eventually asks quietly. Clarke is surprised by that, but she smiles and nods, so they sit down next to each other on the couch.

Bellamy doesn't speak at first, so she takes his hand into hers and waits patiently.

„I'm sorry,“ he says eventually, his voice merely a whisper and he's refusing to look at her.

„It's okay.“

„No, it's not,“ he huffs with a humourless laugh. Then, finally, he slowly turns his head to look her in the eyes. „I'm sorry for putting you through this.“

„Bell-“

„I'm sure this isn't what you imagined being in a relationship with me to be like,“ he interrupts her. „And I'm sorry.“

Then, after a few seconds: „If you don't want to do this, I get it. I can move out and we can go back to...just being friends.“

He almost sounds like it causes him physical pain to say that last part.

„Bellamy,“ Clarke says and takes his face into her hands. „I love you. And I already told you none of this will scare me off.“

„That was just about my OCD. Not about...“ He sighs as he shakes his head and closes his eyes. „Not about you having to take care of me like a child.“

„That's not what this is,“ Clarke replies. „And I already told you: I don't mind. Of course, the past few days haven't been easy but not once did I ever want to leave. Wouldn't you do the same for me?“

„Of course I would.“

„Exactly. So why is it so hard for you to believe that I'm okay with doing this for you?“

Bellamy opens his mouth to say something but closes it again when he realizes he doesn't have any good arguments against that.

„You just deserve better than this, that's all,“ he whispers eventually, so quietly that she almost doesn't hear it. And it breaks her heart.

She wishes she knew what to say to make him believe, really believe that she doesn't mind any of this. That it's a price she's more than willing to pay if it means being with him and also helping him feel better.

But no matter what she says, she can't seem to make his doubts go away.

„You know that I love you more than anything, right?“ she asks quietly.

Bellamy looks at her for a few seconds before finally he nods and forces himself to smile.

„Yeah, I know.“

But from the way he says it, she knows that it's a lie.


End file.
